


Not in the Baby

by justspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:47:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justspn/pseuds/justspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets sick and Dean takes care of him in more than one way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not in the Baby

Dean smirked at Sam’s response to being woken up by the cold wind from outside. Sam pulled the blankets up over his head before pulling himself into a ball beneath them.  
“What the hell Dean?” Sam snapped, finally waking up. Dean shut the open motel door and flicked the light on.  
“Wakey wakey!” Dean said, walking to his own bed to put his pajamas in his bag. “You gonna shower now or when we stop tonight?”  
“Is now okay?” Sam asked, sitting up in bed so one leg was hanging off the side of the bed.  
“That was a choice, wasn’t it?” Dean muttered, looking worriedly at his younger brother. His face was pale and he looked exhausted. Dean dug in his wallet for coffee cash, not wanting to say anything to Sam yet.  
“I was just checking.” Sam said quietly, grabbing a stack of clean clothes. Dean noticed how Sam walked like he had sore muscles. That plus the whiteness in his face meant only one thing. Sam was getting sick.  
“I’m going to get coffee.” Dean told Sam, making sure his brother knew where he was going. 

When Sam came out of the bathroom he looked a little better than he had when he’d gone in.  
“You okay?” Dean asked, handing Sam a coffee. Dean picked up both their bags and slung them over his shoulder. Sam nodded, zipping up his coat. Dean frowned and followed Sam out to the Impala. Sure, it was cold out, cold enough for snow, but compared to the last couple weeks they’d spent hunting in the White Mountains, it was like spring had sprung and brought summer temperatures with it. Dean looked at the thermometer stuck haphazardly on the outside wall of the motel room. It was 40 degrees. Not cold enough for a zipped coat.  
Dean tossed the bags into the truck while Sam got into the passenger seat, trying to conceal his shivering. He wrapped his hands around the hot coffee cup but didn’t dare ink any of it. His stomach wasn’t happy with him, and Dean wouldn’t like it if he threw up in the car. Sam straightened up when Dean got into the car. Dean glanced over at Sam.  
“Ready?” Dean asked, starting the car.  
“Yep.” Sam answered, scooting down in the seat so he could rest his head on the seat. He was too tired to pretend he was feeling fine. Plus, Dean already knew he was sick. He could sense it. 

While they drove, Dean watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. Sam had left the cold coffee abandoned in the cup holder and was slumped against the window, drool dripping down his chin. Dean couldn’t help but smile as he reached over with a napkin to wipe his brother’s face. His smile faded when he felt the heat coming off Sam’s body. Dean knew Sam wasn’t feeling great, could tell before Sam even got out of bed, but he didn’t think Sam would get this sick this fast. Usually it took a few days of pale face and limpy walks before a fever took Sam down.  
Dean pulled into the next gas station he saw and shook Sam awake.  
“Hey Sammy. How’re you feeling?” Dean asked once Sam had focused his hazy eyes on his.  
“I’m all right.” Sam lied, not wanting to worry his brother. Dean snorted.  
“All right my ass. You look like shit and I can feel your fever from here.” Dean said, digging through the first aid kit in the back seat for the thermometer and a bottle of Asprin. “Here.” Dean said, handing the thermometer to Sam. Sam stuck it in his mouth and closed his eyes, head still resting on the window. Dean waited for the numbers to stop rising, and handed Sam a couple Asprin and a bottle of water.  
“I’m gonna hit the head. You need anything?” Dean asked, getting out of the Impala. Sam shook his head. Dean could tell he was miserable.  
After using the bathroom, Dean went to the health aisle of the gas station, grabbing a bottle of cold and flu medicine and a bottle of Tylenol. He put a candy bar on the counter with the medicine, knowing it would make Sam feel better.  
As he walked back out the Impala he could see Sam’s body shivering through the window that was fogging up. He opened the door and climbed in next to his brother.  
“Here Sammy.” Dean said, handing Sam a little cup of cold and flu. Sam grimaced but drank the nasty re liquid anyway. Dean looked his brother over. His face was pale except for the fever flush on his cheeks. He had snot dripping from his nose and his eyes were closed.  
“Sammy, wipe your nose dude.” Dean said, handing Sam a tissue. Sam blew his nose and then coughed, opening the door to spit the phlegm onto the dirt snow on the ground.  
“What’s going on with you?” Dean asked, resting a hand on Sam’s thigh. “And no lying.” Sam cleared his throat.  
“Feel like shit. Headache, sore throat, stuffed up.” Sam croaked.  
“And a fever.” Dean added, looking in the back seat for the blanket they kept folded up under the seat.  
“And a fever.” Sam repeated, resting his head in his hands.  
“Want to lie down in the back for a bit?” Dean asked quietly. Sam nodded and crawled over the seat, flopping down in the back seat. Dean tucked the blanket around him and ran his hand through Sam’s hair. “Here. I know this is your favorite kind.” Dean said, pulling the candy bar out of the bag. He set it on the seat next to Sam in case he wanted it after he woke up.  
“Thanks Dean.” Sam whispered, not even opening his eyes to see what Dean had given him. 

“Dean!” Sam yelped, sitting up, and hand resting on his stomach. Dean jumped in his seat, the Impala swerving slightly.  
“Shit, Sammy what?” Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and seeing Sam’ s green coloring, pulled the car to the shoulder, jumping to open Sam’s door and get his head outside the car.  
“Easy Sammy. Just let it out.” Dean shushed, holding Sam up in his arms while he gagged and swallowed, not wanting to vomit. “Let it out. You’ll feel better>” Dean told Sam even though he knew that usually wasn’t the case. He felt Sam’s muscles tighten under his hold and heard the contents of Sam’s stomach hit the snow on the side of the road. Dean started rubbing circles on Sam’s back and didn’t stop until Sam was done throwing up.  
“Thanks for not doing that in my car.” Dean said, pulling Sam into a sitting position. Sam’s eyes were shut and shivers were racking his body despite the sweat that was pouring off of him. Dean reached over the front seat and grabbed Sam’s water bottle and a box of tissues that had, until that morning, lived under the seat. Dean wiped off Sam’s face, noticing the tears that were falling down his cheeks. “Sammy, don’t cry. It’s all right. I’ve got you.” Dean whispered, pulling Sam into his chest. Dean kissed the top of Sam’s head.  
“I just want to go to sleep.” Sam whimpered.  
“I know, I know. Do you want to lie back down?” Dean asked. The green color had left Sam’s face and white had taken its place. Sam nodded and Dean moved so Sam could take up the whole back seat. Dean laid the blanket over Sam, making sure his feet were covered, and shut the door. Sam’s shivering had gone up a few notches and Dean could hear his teeth chattering.  
“Here, drink this while we drive, okay?” Dean told Sam, putting the water bottle in Sam’s hand. “I’ll stop as soon as I see a motel.” Sam nodded, eyes already closed. Dean climbed back over the seat and started the car, pulling back onto the road. 

They made it to the motel without any more vomiting incidents. Dean left Sam in the car while he went to book them a room for the next few days, giving Sam and himself (if he needed it) time to recover. Back at the car he hauled Sam out of the backseat and helped him inside to the bathroom. Sam’s face was turning green again, and Dean wasn’t sure how long it would be until he upchucked again. When Dean came back inside from the car the second time, bags slung over his shoulder, he could hear Sam gagging. He’d been out of the car for less than a minute and he was already spewing his guts. Dean sighed, plopping the bags on the floor before going into the small bathroom.  
“Hey kiddo. You gonna make it?” Dean asked, filling a plastic cup with tap water. Sam groaned and spit into the toilet, his hand searching for the flusher handle. Dean guided his hand to it and pushed it down, sending Sam’s sickness away. Dean sat down next to Sam, rubbing his back. Sam slumped into Dean’s chest. They stayed like that for most of the night, Sam occasionally throwing up the fluids Dean was pushing into him. After they had been vomit free for a while, Dean stood up and stretched aching body.  
“Rinse your mouth out.” Dean said, handing the cup to Sam. “Do you want your toothbrush?” Sam nodded, spitting the water into the toilet. Dean went out into the room and grabbed Sam’s toothbrush from his bag. He brought it to Sam and helped him stand up to reach the sink. Dean kept his hands on Sam’s hips to hold him steady, and was glad to see that Sam’s color was mostly back to normal. Dean could still feel a slight fever coming off of his baby brother, but it wasn’t anything to worry about. He was surprised when Sam rubbed back into Dean’s crotch. Dean looked in the mirror at Sam’s smirk before rubbing back, letting all his blood rush south. He knew in the back of his mind that what he was doing was wrong. Sam was sick. But, Sam also started it. Dean couldn’t just ignore his brother’s needs.  
“Ready to go to bed?” Dean whispered, his lips tickling Sam’s neck as he talked. Sam moaned and turned around to face Dean, leaving his toothbrush on the counter. Dean led Sam to a bed and gently pushed him down onto his back.  
“You aren’t going to ruin this by puking, are you?” Dean asked, looking into his brothers eyes.  
“No I feel better now. “ Sam mumbled, his lips kissing any part of Dean they could reach. Dean pulled his shirt up over his head. He felt Sam’s cold fingers reach for his jeans, unbuttoning them and unzipping them painfully slow. Dean moaned and felt his cock twitch excitedly. Dean pulled off his pants and boxers, dropping them onto the floor next to the bed. He pulled Sam’s shirt off, and then his jeans, leaving them both naked and needing.  
“Dean.” Sam whispered, pulling away from Dean’s kiss. Dean’s breathing was ragged and he tried not to grind his aching erection into Sam’s in desperate need of friction.  
“What Sammy?” Dean asked, reaching down to cup Sam’s balls. Sam moaned and bucked his hips.  
“Want you to suck me.” Sam whispered. Sam pushed Dean down by his shoulders. Dean hesitated, breathing heavily on Sam’s exposed skin. “Hurry up Dean. You’re killing me.” Sam mumbled. Dean smirked, wanting to drag Sam out as thin as possible. He kissed the insides of Sam’s thighs, up and around his stomach. He left purple sucking marks on Sam’s skin. “Come on Dean.” Sam whispered, putting his hands in Dean’s hair. Dean opened his mouth and took Sam in. The sudden heat from Dean’s mouth made Sam gasp and buck his hips. Dean pulled his mouth away.  
“You know I don’t like that Sammy.” Dean growled, his voice deep with lust. Sam nodded vigorously. Dean put his lips back around Sam’s cock and ran his tongue over Sam’s sensitive slit. Sam’s hands tightened in Dean’s hair as he tried to hold back a moan. Dean took Sam further into his mouth and gently rubbed Sam’s balls with one hand. With the other hand, Dean reached down and gave his own cock a few rubs. His own enjoyment made him moan, the vibrations of his voice going straight to Sam’s cock. Sam moaned at that, not able to hold it in any longer. Dean glanced up at Sam whose eyes were almost entirely black. He could tell by the way Sam was breathing that he was on the edge. Dean pulled his mouth away, kissing the tip of Sam’s dripping cock.  
“Dean, don’t stop.” Sam whined. Dean rolled onto his back.  
“My turn Sammy.” Dean groaned as Sam moved to lie on top of Dean, their erections rubbing. Both men gasped at the touch. Dean had to fight against himself not to lose it, and he could tell by the way Sam froze he did too. Once Sam was sure he could move without coming, he positioned himself over Dean, kissing each nipple before moving down towards Dean’s leaking cock. Dean moaned Sam’s name as he took Dean into his mouth, making Sam aware, again, of how close to the edge he was. Sam hummed around Dean, making Dean’s toes curl before coming into Sam’s mouth. Feeling Dean’s pulsing cock made Sam fall over the edge too, shooting his load onto Dean’s legs.  
“Well, fuck Sammy.” Dean whispered once they’d both recovered. “Not bad for a sick boy.” Sam smiled tiredly.  
“Can we sleep now? I’m tired.” Sam whispered back. Dean pulled him in close.  
“Course we can sleep. Goodnight Sammy.” Dean said.  
“G’night Dean.” Sam whispered, his eyes falling closed. 

Sam woke up to the sun streaming in through the open curtain. He noticed the bed next to him was empty. He saw that the bathroom door was shut.  
“Dean?” Sam asked. He got out of bed and opened the door. Dean was slumped on the floor in front of the toilet. His face was gray and Sam could see him shivering.  
“Sammy.” Dean groaned. “You got me sick, you bitch.”  
“You’re the one who kissed me, jerk.” Sam responded, smiling down at his big brother.

**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure where this one came from. Wow. Okay then.


End file.
